You Were Meant for Me
by YourTimeIsNow
Summary: "You're like a plaintive melody that never sets me free..."


**DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. Neither is the song. Though I love them all dearly. Sigh.**

* * *

><p>He watched her from across the room. She was talking with a man, smiling, a glass of red wine in her hand. Her head was tossed back in laughter and she brushed her hair out of her eyes. She looked absolutely lovely.<p>

She was dressed to kill, in a deep burgundy satin dress that clung to her curves in all the right places. The pockets on her hips were a modern touch and made it impossible for Elliot to take his eyes of her, as she slipped the wine-less hand into one of them and shifted her weight. She was so beautiful.

Elliot watched as the man handed Olivia his business card. He saw her smile and bite her lower lip shyly. The man walked away, sneaking a look back at her once before rejoining his table.

Olivia took a sip of her wine and started to look around the room. Her eyes found his and she held up her glass, a silent "salud" across the room. Elliot mimicked her action with his scotch and soda and then glanced around the large ballroom again. He caught a glimpse of the happy couple chatting with some guests and he grinned. He was genuinely happy for John, despite his own personal failures when it came to marriage.

Elliot sighed and looked back at Olivia. She was still looking at him, inquisitively this time. He raised one eyebrow, unable to stave off his attempt at flirting with her. Flirting with her was second nature to him, despite how hard he tried not to. He knew the pain it caused her. She smiled and, without breaking his gaze, set the man's card down on the bar and turned her back on it.

Elliot smiled softly and began to cross the room toward her. He had barely spoken to her all night. At dinner, they'd sat across the table from each other. Now, dinner was over and drinking and dancing had commenced.

He made his way across the dance floor, taking care not to bump into people or spill his drink. When he lifted his eyes to her again, he caught her straightening her dress and hair. He sighed and smiled to himself, knowing that she was doing that for his benefit.

When he finally arrived at her side, he caught the scent of her perfume. He imagined her dotting the scented oil on her wrists and behind her ears. He imagined his lips covering those spots and felt his cheeks flush.

No. He couldn't go there. I wouldn't allow himself to go there.

He cleared his throat and spoke to her.

"I figure, after twelve years of putting up with all his conspiracy bullshit, we deserve to toast each other."

She laughed and raised her glass slightly. "To Munch," she said softly.

He raised his glass to hers, clinking them together lightly. "To Munch." His eyes never left hers, not for a moment, as they both sipped their beverages. "How's the wine?" he asked her.

"It's good," she answered. "Not too dry. And the scotch?"

"Also good," he said, hating the fact that they were making small talk. He didn't want his relationship with Olivia to be any different than it had once been. He couldn't stand the fact that it was.

When Elliot's divorce finalized last year, things with Olivia started to change. Hands would linger on shoulders just a touch longer, eyes would hold gazes, smiles were more friendly. They were both guilty of it. Olivia was a beautiful woman and she knew him better than anyone. Her company was a solace to him, a peaceful retreat. He found himself starting to take advantage of that, spending more time with her outside of work, bringing dinner to her apartment, watching old movies late at night when neither of them could sleep, getting coffee in the morning before another long day. He couldn't stop the natural progression that their relationship had taken.

Until one day, three months ago, after a difficult case involving a young girl and her rapist cousin, Elliot went to Olivia's apartment. He knocked on the door and she opened it with tears on her cheeks and a glass of vodka in her hand. The vodka was a dead giveaway. When Olivia was upset, she went for wine. When she was shattered, she grabbed the vodka.

"Oh Liv," he had said, stepping into the warm room and enveloping her in a hug. "I know," his hand rubbed small circles against her back, between her shoulder blades.

"Jesus," she said softly, pulling from him and wiping her face. "I'm sorry, El."

He shook his head, craving her body against his once more. "Don't be," he practically whispered, placing his hands on her shoulders.

She looked up at him and before he knew it, she had leaned up and pressed her lips to his. Quickly. Softly. She set herself back down again and looked up at him. When he didn't speak, she leaned up again and softly brushed her lips against his, willing his mouth to open so she could slide her tongue inside. He obliged and she responded, making this the most passionate kiss he'd ever been given.

It was only when she had placed her hands on his cheeks that he was thrust into reality once more. He was terrified. Completely terrified of another relationship. He'd neglected the first one so badly. And this was Olivia. _Olivia_. He couldn't do that to her. After a string of failed relationships and little biological family to speak of, she was fragile. And he couldn't risk her heart. Not with his track record.

He'd pushed her away. Hard.

"Elliot?" she had said in a small voice.

He'd left. He had just turned and left her there. They hadn't spoken of it since.

"El?" that same small voice called to him now. "Elliot?"

He shook the memory from his mind and looked at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. He smiled, having no idea what she'd said to him, and said, "May I have this dance?"

She laughed and his heart soared. "You don't dance."

Wordlessly, he took her wine glass and set it beside his on the bar. He held out his hand for her and she softly placed her manicured fingertips onto his palm. He led her out onto the dance floor and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. He felt her arm slide over his shoulders and he pressed the hand that held hers to his chest.

The band played softly and a warm voice filled the room.

_Life was a song, you came along  
>I've laid awake the whole night through.<br>If I but dared to think you cared  
>This is what I'd say to you…<br>You were meant for me  
>And I was meant for you…<em>

Elliot delicately pressed his nose into Olivia's hair. He hadn't been this close to her since the night she'd kissed him. He'd forgotten how much he loved the feeling of her. He felt her body mold to his, he felt her relax in his arms as he swayed her back and forth.

"Slow, slow, quick quick, slow," he whispered softly.

He felt her smile, but she didn't look at him. "I take it back. You're not half bad."

He grinned. "Thank you very much," he accepted her almost-compliment.

"Where did you learn this?"

"My mother," he said. "When she was in one of her good moods, she used to put on Gene Kelly records and teach me the dances she did when she was younger."

Olivia smiled, but said nothing.

_You're like a plaintive melody that never lets me free,  
>But I'm content the angels must have sent you<br>And they meant you just for me…_

Suddenly, Elliot felt her grow tense in his arms. "El, I need some air." And very quickly, she was gone. His eyes followed her retreating form as she made her way toward the balcony doors.

He sighed and looked at his feet. He'd really done it this time.

"Go get her already, would you?"

Elliot looked up to see Munch dancing with his bride right next to him. He gestured with his head in the direction that Olivia had gone.

"Don't be a jackass. Go talk to her."

Elliot smiled and nodded. "Thanks, John," he said, clapping a hand onto Munch's shoulder and proceeding off the dance floor.

He stopped a waiter along the way and grabbed two glasses on champagne from his tray. He went to the balcony doors and saw Olivia there, standing by the edge, bathed in moonlight, a soft breeze blowing her loose hair around her face.

All the times his mother had played _Singin' in the Rain _for him, he never dreamed he'd actually be living it.

He quietly opened the doors and made his way outside, closing them behind him. He could still hear the music softly playing behind him. He silently made his way to where she was standing and ran the cool glass of champagne down her arm.

She started and quickly turned on him.

"I'm sorry," Elliot said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," she said, looking back at the New York City skyline.

Elliot set the two glasses down on the balcony ledge and removed his suit jacket, carefully placing it over her shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He picked the glasses back up again and offered one to her. She accepted and took a sip, never looking at him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said. How cliché, commenting on the skyline. He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity and inwardly sighed when Olivia only responded with a small nod of her head.

"Elliot," she started after a moment. "I'm fine, really. You can go back inside."

"I don't want to," Elliot looked down at the glass in his hand. "You're out here, so…"

Olivia sighed exasperatedly. "El, please."

Elliot took a moment before speaking again. "Olivia, I think I owe you an explanation."

"No, you don't." She wouldn't look at him. She was really good at hiding from him. Although Elliot was usually pretty good at getting her to show herself.

"I do," he said softly. "I… I really wanted to dance with you. You just look so-"

"Don't say it," she said, finally turning toward him. "Elliot, don't. I can't do this again. I can't afford to think that this is going somewhere and then have you bolt on me again. Without a word, without a discussion."

"Going somewhere?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Don't you dare tell me that our relationship wasn't going somewhere three month ago. Don't you even dare. You know it was. And then… you were gone. Just… gone."

"Olivia," Elliot held his hand up to stop her. "What I meant was… I'm already there."

Olivia just started at him. "What?"

"I… I have nowhere else to go. Because I'm there already."

"You… you need to make up your mind, Stabler. This is really starting to piss me off."

Elliot chuckled. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "When you… three months ago… when you…"

"I got it, El, keep going."

He smiled at her again. "I fucked up. I'm just… I'm so bad at this. I already have one failed marriage under my belt. What if… what if I hurt you?"

"I'm a big girl, Elliot."

"I know you are," he said. "But… you're my family. And I couldn't bear to lose you. Not again. And at that point in time, if I had just taken what I wanted… and trust me, I wanted you… I would have been careless."

"So… your solution was to leave? Without discussing anything with me first? Jesus, Elliot, do you have any idea what I thought I'd lost that night?"

"I know," he said, looking at the glass of champagne in his hand.

"I lost my best friend, my partner. You… you pulled away. Things had changed between us. I couldn't talk to you anymore…"

"I know," he said again.

"I trusted you."

She'd lowered the boom with that one. He realized that in trying not to break her heart, he'd broken her heart.

"Olivia," he said. "I'm so sorry."

She sighed and looked out at the New York evening. Elliot fought the urge to run his hand through her hair.

"You were faced with an impossible decision that night," she said so softly he almost didn't hear her. "You did what you thought was right."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

She turned back toward him, her face full of resolve and passion. "But if you're going to make a decision involving both of us again, I'd better be consulted. You got it?"

Elliot grinned. "Yes, ma'am." He almost saluted her, but he didn't want to risk pissing her off. Again.

"Good," she said, nodding her head. Then she smiled. And he melted.

She raised her glass of champagne to his and spoke softly. "To us."

Elliot couldn't speak. He merely smiled and clinked their glasses together.

Us.

They were an Us.

They each took a sip of champagne. Olivia then took his glass and set it along with hers on the balcony ledge.

"Where were we?" she said.

Elliot grinned and pulled her close, running his hand under the suit jacket she was wearing and over the smooth material of her dress. He felt Olivia take a deep breath and rest her cheek against his shoulder.

_You were meant for me  
>And I was meant for you.<br>Nature patterned you and when she was done  
>You were all the sweet things rolled into one.<br>You're like a plaintive melody that never lets me free,  
>But I'm content the angels must have sent you<br>And they meant you just for me…_

And in a move that would have made Mr. Kelly proud, he tucked his hands under the chin and lifted her eyes to meet his. He leaned down and gave her the softest kiss he'd ever given anyway.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to hers and whispered softly, "I'm sorry, should I have discussed that with you first?"

Olivia laughed loudly in spite of herself, throwing her head back and closing her eyes. He relished the sound. When she looked back at him, she grinned, threw her hand behind his neck and pulled him in for a powerhouse kiss, pressing her body to his and covering his mouth with her own.

When she finally pulled away, she sighed and said, "No discussion required for that."

She picked up their half-drunk glasses of champagne, slid her arm around his waist and walked back toward the ballroom with him.

And as he slipped his arm over her shoulders and felt her hip bumping against his, he realized that there was no better feeling in the world than being in love for the first time.

**_FIN_**

* * *

><p><em>Hope you liked! Please read &amp; review?<em>


End file.
